


Forever Changed

by flipflop_diva



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Disabled Character, Established Relationship, F/M, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 14:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Tris was alive. But she would never be the same.





	Forever Changed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).



They are the two longest days of Tobias’ life. 

He sits next to Christina, and sometimes next to Cara and Caleb and others who he vaguely registers, and stares at the clock that never seems to move. Each second lasts a lifetime. Each tick of the second-hand another reminder of her. 

Images flash through his mind. Over and over and over. Her face. Her eyes. The way she fights. The way she smiles. Her lips when he touches them. Her skin when he strokes his fingers along it. The way she looks when they come together in the dark of night.

Sometimes, as he sits there, staring at the clock, he pushes his fist into his mouth, bites down hard on the skin, like maybe the physical pain will keep the rest of the pain in check. Like maybe by focusing all his anger — _Caleb was supposed to be the one who went in there!_ — and all his frustration and all his terror into that small patch of flesh, it will allow the rest of him to hope again, to believe again, to be sure again.

The seconds tick by, slower than any seconds have ever ticked before. 

She is alive. This is something. He tries to remind himself of this with every tick of the clock. Cristina tries to remind him of this with every tick of the clock. Sometimes he tries to remind her of this in those same ticks of the clock.

They sit together, side by side, hands clasped, reminding themselves that at least she is alive, that she is breathing, that the doctors are working on her, that they will save her if they at all can, that Tris is a fighter and a survivor and this is not how it is supposed to end. This is not how it is going to end.

For two days, they sit, caught between hope and grief, terror and anxiety, waiting for the seconds to tick by, waiting for someone, anyone, to tell them something, to give them hope or crush their souls. Waiting, just waiting …

•••

She knows there is something wrong the moment she opens her eyes. It is dark where she is, almost quiet, but there is a steady sort of beeping echoing in her ears. 

Her head aches, her body feels different. She feels pain — sharp shooting jolts of pain — throughout her arms and legs but it is different than any pain she has ever felt before. 

She thinks back, tries to remember.

She recalls seeing blood. Feeling pain. David shot her. Twice. 

She pictures the little device, struggles to remember if she activated it. She thinks she did. She remembers falling, she remembers reaching out. She remembers seeing her mother, hearing her words. _“It is not yet time, Beatrice.”_

She doesn’t remember anything after that. She doesn’t remember if it worked. She doesn’t remember how she got out.

A door on the opposite side of the room opens. Two men rush in. Two men she has never seen before. They hurry to her side. She tries to adjust her position, to ease the pain in her body, but there is definitely something wrong.

They are talking to her, their words echoing around the room. She feels like she is in a fog, pieces of their speech reaching her ears but not the whole context. 

_Lodged in your spine._

_Paralyzed._

_Never walk again._

They keep talking, not letting her get a word in edgewise, trying to reassure her. Finally, she finds her voice. 

“I don’t care about that,” she finally says. “Just tell me if it worked!”

•••

She is more brave than he ever knew, and he already thought she was the bravest person he had ever known.

He sits with her day after day, hour after hour, helping her sit in the wheelchair, helping her regain even limited motion in her hands and arms, helping her do all the things they both had always taken for granted — brushing her hair, putting on clothes, taking her medicine.

She never seems angry, though. Barely seems frustrated. In fact, she smiles most days, reminds him that it is okay because she succeeded, because she stopped the Bureau, and Chicago is safe again, and that this is a new start for everyone.

He is the one who is angry. He is the one who is frustrated. He is the one who takes breaks to go outside and scream up to the skies that this isn’t fair, that it should have been Caleb, that she deserves to have the life she should have had, whatever that should have been.

He mourns for the children they will probably never have now. He mourns for the ordinary life he once fantasized about.

She is still the same Tris. She loves him, and it shows in her eyes. She kisses him and tries to touch him and apologizes when she can’t do more, and he feels guilty and more angry and more frustrated that he can’t be as accepting as she can.

He worries that she deserves better, that he will bring her down, but he can’t leave her. He knows that would be selfish, and even though he wishes he could be the man she deserves, he stays by her side and tries to follow her lead.

“You are far braver than I could ever be,” he tells her night after night, and she always shakes her head.

“You would have done the same thing if you were in my place,” she always says, but he knows that isn’t true.

She is far braver than he could ever be.

•••

Tobias thinks she is being foolish, up here at the top of the Hancock Building, being strapped into the zip line by Cara and Caleb, but he doesn’t understand.

He worries about her, every second of every day. Worries about how she will go on, about who she will become, about who they will become.

He worries that the ride through the city will damage her spinal column more, will further disable her, but she knows that isn’t true. Caleb and Cara have worked on this special harness for her for months now. They will not put her in danger.

It has been one year since David shot her, and she knows it is time she took back more control of her life. David might have disabled her, but he did not ruin her, and she won’t let him take anything else from her.

She wants to feel the wind roaring past her body. She wants to experience that rush of adrenaline as she soars down across the city. She wants to be caught in the arms of her friends and see their smiles and not their pity.

She wants to live, not in a hospital room or trapped on the first-floor apartment she and Tobias have plans to move into, but to be free and unrestrained.

Besides, Tobias will be at the other end to catch her. She is not afraid.

She lets Cara and Caleb strap her carefully into the harness, making sure every part of her body is snug and secure.

“Are you ready?” Caleb says to her, and she feels a fondness for her brother she once thought would never be possible again.

“More than ready,” she says, and she closes her eyes as they push her out on to the line, until she is dangling off the edge of the building, and then she is soaring. She opens her eyes and smiles, laughter escaping from her throat.

At the other end Tobias is waiting for her, and everything is right in her world.


End file.
